


Don't Let Go

by AADevil



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AADevil/pseuds/AADevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hurts, and everything feels so wrong, but Barry's not weak and he's not going to ask for help.<br/>But how can he refuse when help's got eyes that can see right through him, and a grip that keeps him grounded?</p><p>Barry doesn't expect to find comfort at all, let alone from Leonard Snart. But life has a funny way of surprising you, and Barry's not complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Go

It was suffocating. A feeling he couldn’t escape, no matter how hard he seemed to try, the kind that would envelop you, and cloud your vision. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, at least not to Barry Allen. The helplessness, and the bitter anger. He’d felt it when he was small, when he’d watched his family break apart in front of him, unable to do _anything_ . So helpless in the face of reality. It wasn’t only the anguish that tore him apart, it was the hate.   
He’d never felt so strongly. He hated the man who had killed his mother, and caused his father to be locked away. The policemen who arrested him, even Joe West, who had taken him in. He hated the public, who jumped at the opportunity to villanise a man they knew _nothing_ about, who turned their pitying eyes towards Barry, the victim. He’d hated reality, and whoever would have let his life fall apart like that-But most of all...He loathed himself.

For being so _weak_.

But the feeling had passed. Not completely, he knew, but it receded, and it let him feel actually happy for a while. But it wasn’t long before it returned. First, it came with Dr.Wells-No, Eobard Thawne. The man who’d ruined his life. It wasn’t too hard to redirect his feelings onto him instead. It was easier to control that way, too.  
He would have expected that after he disappeared, that Barry would feel freed, that a weight would have been taken off his shoulders. But instead, he felt worse. Because his father was still in jail, his friends hurt, Ronnie and Eddie gone. All because he couldn’t do anything. Even with superpowers, it really didn’t make a difference.  
Nothing ever made a difference.  


So when Zoom came, and showed the world what Barry had been hiding-What he’d kept hidden his whole life, it broke him in ways he knew couldn’t be repaired. It brought back his fears, and the dark along with it. The worst of it all was that he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t tell anyone, or ask for help. Because really, he’d dragged them through enough suffering, caused them plenty of pain. Dumping his worthless insecurities wasn’t going to help any of them, it would just remind them of the truth Zoom had exposed-the truth of how weak he was. Because he was so _very_ weak. Even if he pretended not to be, as he smiled and laughed and joked the way he always did, and dressed up in his costume to go and save the day.  
  
It wasn’t only for his friends that he pretended for. He did it for himself, too. Barry knew, if he let his feelings out, they’d consume him, make him uglier than he already was.   


So he ran. He let himself be blindsided. He welcomed the distractions with open arms and a wide grin. The refusal of what he knew to be the truth is what had gotten him Patty. The bursts of true _joy_ whenever he was with her, something he thought he couldn’t have-didn’t deserve. Knowing that, he still needed her. Her light reminded him of the good he used to see, and it made him feel accepted, it made him feel _loved_ . He knew it was selfish, condemning her to his lies and half-truths, dancing around what was really important, because he didn’t want her hurt, especially not because of him, like how every single one of his friends had gotten hurt.  
Funny, that it was Barry himself who seemed to hurt her. Because she knew, the light of his life, Patty, recognised the foul thing in him, knew that he wasn’t being truthful, but he refused her help. Sure, because he didn’t want to pull her in. But, really? It was because he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve happiness. Not even a sliver of it.

So he got his wish, and he was alone.

* * *

He didn’t tell anyone about it. About Patty, about the weight Zoom had actually left on him. Not even Iris. He kept his nightmares to himself, and sat up awake at night, head clutched tightly, fingernails digging into his scalp. But the pain was nothing compared to the one he felt in his chest. How suffocated, and _terrified_ he was.  
In the end, that was all he was, a scared little boy, just like he was all those years ago.  
  
Instead, he worked, as the Flash. The adrenaline rush kept him distracted, sometimes, it even made him excited, the way he’d been when he was still just a red streak.   
Cisco had spotted signatures of Captain Cold’s gun, and Barry was relieved, because Snart was routine, something in his life he could count on to be unchanged, because as clever as the thief deemed himself to be, he was predictable in his motives and goals, going by an inner code that Barry couldn’t quite decipher.

He headed out as soon as he got the location, speeding through the dark streets, illuminated only by the city’s light pollution. It was too bright, really, but he preferred it to the dark, which held so many unknowns. Barry surveyed the building Snart was in, before skidding to a stop inside of it, a few feet away from Captain Cold.  


“Look who’s here to join in on the fun.” Snart didn’t even turn around at his arrival, seemed to be focused on the watch on his wrist.  


Barry noted how he didn’t seem to be holding any valuables. Then he heard the roaring of flames from behind him, Heatwave waving around his gun like a toy as Barry quickly dodged, the heat making him panic.”

  
“Scared, little Flash?” The man croaked out in his rough voice, a grin on his face as he aimed the fire towards him, the room illuminated by it.

  
He couldn’t help the anger boiling inside of him, but he ignored it for the sake of lunging at Mick Rory, to take him down. But apparently, he was too slow, because he felt a harsh blow to his back, the sting sending bolts of pain through his body as he collapsed, fists tightly clutched, breath blown out of him as he tried to see straight. _Cold_. The feeling coursed through him, and it was all Barry could do to try and not scream.

  
“Like a rag doll.” He could practically hear the smirk Snart no doubt had on his face. Barry bit the inside of his cheek, and pushed himself up, turning to glare. “It’s not gonna be so easy, Snart.” He spat out, and sped towards him. But the shot had slowed him down, and Snart got another hit on him, this time grazing his leg, but still causing enough pain that Barry had to stop to gather his breath.

  
“You’re not putting up much of a fight today. I know you, you’re usually much more... _Determined._ ” Snart concluded, waving his gun around for emphasis.

  
Barry felt his breath catch in his throat, and all he could see was red as he flashed forward, hands hoisting Snart up by his parka, pinned against an unfamiliar wall before he had any time to react. He was aware of his ragged breathing, and the heat burning in his lungs, and skin, despite the still healing frostbite. “You...You don’t know me.” He almost didn’t recognise his voice. It sounded angry, yeah, but it was the pain beneath it all that shocked him. He wished he could disguise it, he so badly wished he could control his feelings, but he couldn’t, and all he could do was _hate._

  
Even with the anger, Barry had moved Snart away from the building, from Heatwave, more importantly. He had him pinned against the wall of a deserted alleyway, no sign of life in sight. It was all too dark, he noticed, darker than he would have liked it to be.

His breath hitched, and he felt as if he was choking. His grip seemed to have loosened enough so that Snart had his feet on the ground again. He ignored the look he was sending him, and slowly pulled away, noticing how his hands was shaking, how _he_ was shaking. Oh no. Not now.

Stepping back in an attempt to get away from Snart, he only ended up hitting the wall, and he slid down it without any resistance, hands gripping at the emblem on his suit before he reached up to desperately pull his cowl back. He couldn’t breathe. It felt like the world was closing in on him, made him feel so small, so insignificant, and so _weak_ .  


He was pathetic, broken and alone, and he’d always be that way. No one could fix him, he’d just end up breaking them instead. His vision blurred, his head hanging as he tried, he tried so hard to breathe, but he couldn’t. It felt as if his throat was shut, and he still felt like he was burning, even with the pain from the gun having subsided, it still felt so painful.  
Barry started once he felt a hand on his shoulder, head darting up, panicked eyes. He distantly noted that his eyes was burning, but he couldn’t do anything to stop. Just like always, he was too helpless.

  
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  
Snart sounded different, his voice gentle. Barry tried to look at him, to understand what he was doing, but his vision was blurred and he just couldn’t. He let out a choked sob, and bit his lip as hard as he could, drawing blood. _No_.

  
“Barry, breathe. Come on, In and out. You can do it, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He didn’t seem to be affected by Barry’s pathetic state. Barry knew that Snart was a good person, but he never expected compassion in return to exposing his true self. The most he could expect of people was pity, and even that, he despised, because it just proved how powerless he was.  
He pushed the thoughts away, blinking the tears away, eyes downcast, doing as he was instructed, shivering as he sucked in the cold air, letting it painfully fill his lungs.  


“It’s okay to be scared, Barry.”  


His voice sounded so soothing, that Barry couldn’t help but let himself believe it. Just because he didn’t have a choice, and he couldn’t control the sob that broke out of him, and the tears that followed. He swore he could taste the bile in his throat, he _hated_ how he was right now.   
So he focused on the motions Snart’s hand was doing on his arm. Up, and down. Up, and down.  


It seemed to go on forever, Barry’s eyes closed, tears drying on his cheeks, his breath occasionally hitching. He didn’t move away like he wanted to at first, he just remained silent, and so did Cold.  
When he felt the hand pull away, panic rushed through him, and he snapped his eyes to look at Snart, scared that he was going to be left on his own, his hand seemed to have instinctively reached out, gloved fingers curled around Snart’s wrist, who seemed surprised at the sudden motion.

“N-No…” His voice was broken, just like him, but he chose to ignore it, just like he ignored how bad he felt for having to rely on another person, how disgustingly pitiful it made him.  


Snart didn’t seem to think that way at all, and he smiled. Barry had never seen the man smile before, and he noticed how it lit something up in him, a sort of warmth.  


“I’m not leaving you like this.” He whispered, hands reaching to grab Barry’s hand, and pull it away. Before Barry could say anything, Snart pulled off his parka, and wrapped it around Barry’s shoulders. “You’re shivering.” he said in response to the questioning look that Barry had been giving him.  


After a long silence, in which Snart, remained crouched in front of him, silent, not asking for anything, Barry couldn’t help but speak, “Why...Why are you doing this?” His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been screaming, and it felt weird speaking. Maybe that was the fear muddling his head up, because he could feel it. He dreaded Snart’s response, he didn’t want to be pitied, but he also didn’t want to be manipulated.  


“I...Don’t know.” Was the response that came, and it got a surprised laugh from Barry, along with a genuine smile. Snart seemed just as surprised, but he returned it with a hesitant smile of his own.  


Acknowledging that the man wasn’t going anywhere, Barry leaned forward, clutching the sleeve of Snart’s shirt, and sniffing. He knew he wasn’t being asked to say anything, but still, he spoke. “I-I’m so powerless.” He begun, not looking up at Snart, avoiding his eyes like he’d been doing, afraid of what he’d see in them. “You must have seen it...Must have seen Zoom, parading by half dead body around.” A bitter laugh escaped him, and he clutched at the sleeve as a distraction. “I couldn’t do _anything_ to him. It’s not only that...I haven’t been able to do anything for a while now. I even had a chance to make it all better-to save my mom...But even that, I couldn’t.” His voice seemed to waver towards the end, and he took a deep breath. He relaxed as he felt Snart’s hand on his shoulder, assuring him.  


“People _died_ , Snart. Because of me. So many people keep getting hurt because I’m so weak. I hate it, Snart. I hate...I hate _myself_ .” He whispered the last part. The admission seemed to give him some sort of relief, but it also caused his eyes to water, caused the pain in his chest to return at the reminder. “I’m so sick of it all, I’m so weak, and _pathetic_ .” He spat, clenching his jaw.  


“Len.”  


He opened his eyes at the voice, furrowing his brows. “W-What?”  


“Call me Len, kid.” Barry made eye contact, noticing how bright Snart-Len’s eyes were. His face was usually always guarded, expression carefully calculated. It took his breath away, seeing the way he was being looked at, as if he actually _mattered_ , as if he wasn’t nothing. He leaned forward, and burrowed his head in Len’s neck, his skin warm despite the cool air in the alley.  


“Thank you...Len.” The smile came naturally to him, and he inhaled, noting the distinct smell of aftershave and fruity soap. It was oddly comforting. He would have never expected to find comfort in Captain Cold, but he felt glad that he was the one here for his breakdown, instead of anyone else. As much as he loved his friends, they always looked sorry for him. But with Len, he got the impression that he understood, or at least seemed to.   


“Anytime, Scarlet.”  


Barry smiled against Len’s skin, shivers going up his spine at the proximity of Len’s voice, and the closeness to his ear. Thankfully, it was mistaken for Barry being cold, as Len pulled the parka tighter around him, moving in closer around Barry. The gesture, surprisingly, didn’t make Barry feel suffocated, but instead, it made him feel oddly protected, and safe. Who would have thought that he’d use those words to describe Captain Cold? He chuckled lightly at the thought, and wrapped himself around Len, breathing considerably steadied compared to earlier.  


They stayed crumpled against each other on the ground of some dark alley for a long time, but neither of them seemed to mind it. Len took solace in the steadied breathing of Barry, hands idly brushing through the short hairs at the back of his neck as Barry did his best to push his face as close to Len as he could, relishing the warmth, and the butterflies in his stomach. They didn’t say anything, but they didn’t need to. The mere feeling of the other seemed to be comfort enough for both of them, allowing them to forget the rest of the world for as long as they could, and relishing in each other.

It was almost scary how _right_ it all felt. Barry waited, taking deep breaths into Len’s neck as he felt a hand circling his back. He waited for the moment to end, for him to snap back into reality, or for Len to notice what he was doing, who it was exactly that he was comforting, and to pull back in disgust. Couldn’t help but think about how he wasn’t lucky enough to be allowed a break, and wasn’t it just insane that he was being so trusting of Captain Cold? He knew, at the back of his head, what the man had done, but he’d always known that he had good in him, never gave up on the fact that Barry _knew_ Leonard Snart was capable of so much more. So actually, this didn’t feel too wrong. It was the opposite.   


The broken, jagged edges of Barry fit comfortably against Len’s, as it were, as if they were the only two pieces of two entirely different puzzles, somehow perfectly fitted, creating an entirely new picture. Even with how different they were, sitting on the cold ground, barely illuminated by a flickering street lamp, neither of them could deny that it didn’t seem to matter. In fact, maybe it made it easier for Barry to accept the arm wrapping around him, pulling him into a position that suspiciously resembled a hug.   
  
He didn’t fight against the smile on his lips and didn’t push down the warmth in his chest, because after who knows how long, Barry couldn’t feel the persistent force of hate and guilt weighing him down like he had grown accustomed to.  
Maybe even for the first time, being so exposed didn’t make him feel weak. It made him more than content. As Barry squeezed his eyes shut, he desperately hoped that whatever was happening between them didn’t disappear when they eventually have to part ways for the night.

He had a feeling that Len might be thinking the same, with how tightly he was being held. Just that was more than enough to send waves of happiness through Barry, and he could tell that he was drowning in Len, and was somehow more than okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a compulsion to make everything into a series--But i'll resist.  
> Critiques/reviews are super welcome !!! I'd love any comments !  
> Also, please do point out if you spot any typos or mistakes, and Thanks so much for reading !!


End file.
